


Trip Conducts A Social Experiment

by truejaku (hereonourstreet)



Category: DRAMAtical Murder, DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Brainwashing, Collars, Leashes, M/M, Spanking, dmmdrarepairweek2k15, mentions of BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 11:40:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3895015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereonourstreet/pseuds/truejaku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trip notices a couple in public one day and realizes the one thing he's never tried is a monogamous, romantic relationship. And isn't it just perfect that the next day they're to brainwash Mizuki into joining Morphine. So Trip takes advantage of that to also brainwash him -- into being his boyfriend. For rarepairweek2k15.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trip Conducts A Social Experiment

**Author's Note:**

> imagine the title of this fic popping up a la Its Always Sunny in Philadelphia
> 
> okay i had this idea for SO. LONG. and i've started it a couple times but couldn't finish. so i finally decided to just put the snapshots in my head onto paper (or Word doc i guess) so this is another kinda sketchy fic for rarepairweek. it's not even proofread that well tbqh but i read it through once so it should be fine!
> 
>  **cw** brainwashing (no explicit noncon scenes, mizuki consents to everything in the context of being brainwashed, so while it's not actually consensual because he's brainwashed, there's no explicit noncon), bdsm sex with bondage/leashes/collars/spanking/etc. but VERY briefly and not super explicit, but i guess that's about it!

            There’s a couple in the booth in front of Trip, and Virus has to keep tugging on his sleeve to stop his staring. They haven’t noticed, not yet at least, that Trip tilts his head down and watches them dully from below his bangs, but Virus knows him well enough to make sure to stop him every time he catches him watching. The two blonds have been having a lazy afternoon, stopping for coffee and cakes at a small café – Trip’s favorite, in fact – while people watching. So Trip isn’t entirely sure why they’re allowed to sit here all day and look at the people who pass by, but he has to stop looking at the people directly in front of him. He trusts Virus’s judgment however, and tries to stop.

            They’re resting. Tomorrow is a big day. Tomorrow is probably one of the biggest days for them since the formation of Morphine. It might be the culmination of their time with Toue, and if Trip knew any life outside of Toue and Virus, he might be nervous. As it were, he simply thinks of tomorrow as “a big day,” and one that Virus thinks they need to rest up for. Tomorrow is the day that Mizuki is coming around to discuss the dissolution of Dry Juice into Morphine, though he doesn’t know that there won’t really be much of a discussion. If Trip gave a shit, he’d feel bad for Mizuki. He was obviously hurt, terrified of his team disbanding and leaving him, though Trip can’t fathom why. But he was obviously doing this out of their best interest. Mizuki is a nice person, Trip thinks. And in any case, they’re doing him a favor.

            Virus tugs on his sleeve. He jerks his head away sullenly from the couple in the booth.

            “Why are you so interested in them, anyway?” Virus asks. Trip gives him a noncommittal shrug.

            “Have you ever had a girlfriend?”

            “Of course not,” Virus scoffs.

            “Boyfriend?”

            Virus narrows his eyes at him over the rim of his glasses.

            “Anything?”

            Virus holds his glare. Trip grins.

            “I wonder what it’s like.”

            “We don’t have time for that,” Virus repeats himself, stating the same thing he’s said for the past – actually, for as long as Trip has ever known him, Virus has insisted that neither of them have time for a romantic relationship with one person. Trip’s never felt the need for one so he’s never questioned it. Then again, Trip can’t recall the last time he’s ever worried about the difference between wanting and needing something, and he’s not exactly the type to ignore his own whims.

 

* * *

 

            Mizuki is the strongest person Trip has ever met.

            Not physically, of course. Trip has hardly met anyone stronger than himself, though the shackled foreign man that Toue had locked up for years does spring to mind. No, Mizuki isn’t like that. Mizuki is perseverant, fortuitous in mind and strong-willed. Brainwashing him took far longer than planned – not that it truly mattered, but Trip was surprised. He cried out for his Rib team, something that Trip could never understand. Why do people always scream for other people when they’re being broken? Why are they thinking of other people in this moment? He even cried out for Aoba. Trip exchanged pleasantly surprised glances with Virus. So Mizuki thought about Aoba just as much as they did. Interesting.

 

* * *

 

            It’s Trip’s job to secure the contacts. Which is, plainly stated, making sure Mizuki is not going to try to escape his cell at night. He’s in a special room, one that Trip assumes resembles the warmth of a cozy bedroom, in order to quell a person’s subconscious from breaking through again, and Mizuki is the first time he and Virus have ever been worried that that may happen.

            “Make sure he doesn’t feel like leaving,” Virus tells him as he retires to his own bedroom. “Then go to bed. We have one day off. Then we have a lot to do.”

            Trip rolls his eyes. Sometimes Virus likes to pretend he has any jurisdiction over Trip’s life, and tries to enforce things like a bedtime or a healthy diet. It’s leftover from their time as children together, and Virus never asks if Trip did as he was told, nor does he reprimand him if he disobeys. Neither of them considers it “disobeying,” anyway. Virus likes to play the big brother role sometimes, whether he realizes it or not, and Trip doesn’t mind. He simply does his job.

            Mizuki is sitting up in his bed when Trip knocks and comes in. His back is turned to Trip, and he’s staring down at his hands in his lap.

            “Hey.”

            Trip offers the small greeting, but Mizuki doesn’t respond. His leg is bouncing, but otherwise he remains completely mute.

            “Hello,” Trip tries again.

            Still nothing.

            Trip is intrigued.

            “Mizuki.”

            The bouncing stops. Mizuki lifts his head and looks at the wall across from him. Then he turns, slowly, to put one hand on the mattress and peer at Trip from over his shoulder.

            His eyes are wild, a dark red rimmed with yellow, and opened as wide as they can go. He’s still wearing his jeans and the cotton jacket Virus and Trip gifted to him once he broke and his hair is a mess, sticking up every which way, which isn’t a surprise, as he hasn’t been allowed to shower yet, and the brainwashing process can get a little dirty.

            Trip is enchanted. He holds eye contact for several terrifying seconds before Mizuki smiles.

            “Hello.”

            Mizuki is the most dangerous person Trip has ever met. He’s never been faced with someone who he truly thought might be able to snap out of his brainwashing. He’s never had to worry about leaving someone alone in their room before.

            This is the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to Trip.

            “It’s time for bed,” he says, testing the waters. Mizuki’s smile only widens.

            “No shit,” he spits suddenly. “That’s why I’m sitting in bed.”

            Trip grins.

            “Would you like me to tuck you in?”

            “Nah,” Mizuki says, finally breaking eye contact to stand up. “I don’t need a blanket. You could help me change out of these clothes, though.”

            Trip grins wider.

            “There are clothes in there,” he says, pointing at the wooden chest to his left. Mizuki follows his finger, sizes up the dresser, and then rolls his eyes.

            “I’ll just sleep naked.”

            “That’s fine,” Trip shrugs. “Just be awake at nine. We’ll be here to get you.”

            “Fine.”

            “Don’t leave your room,” Trip continues. “The bathroom is to your right. There’s a window in there if there’s an emergency but it won’t open unless the fire or security alarms go off. So don’t even try to escape. You’re Mizuki. You used to run Dry Juice, the biggest Rib team on the island. But now you’ve dissolved it into Morphine. Repeat that back to me.”

            Mizuki turns to face him, his hands deep inside the pockets of his jacket. He shrugs his hood around his shoulders and glares at him.

            “Repeat _what_ back to you, you fat fuck?”

            “It’s muscle,” Trip says instinctually. “You’re Mizuki. You used to run Dry Juice, the biggest Rib team on the island. But now you’ve dissolved it into Morphine.”

            Mizuki stares.

            “I bet _some_ of it’s fat.”

            Trip pauses.

            Mizuki is truly the strongest person he’s ever met.

            “You’re Mizuki,” he repeats. “Say that to me.”

            “I’m Mizuki,” he finally relents.

            “You used to run Dry Juice, the biggest Rib team on the island.”

            “Sure.”

            “Say it.”

            “I used to run Dry Juice. The biggest Rib team on the island.”

            “But now you’ve dissolved it into Morphine.”

            “But now I’ve dissolved it into Morphine.”

            “You’re happy.”

            “I’m happy.”

            “This is the best decision you could have made for your team.”

            “This is the best decision I could have made for my team.”

            “Everyone will be better off for this.”

            “Everyone will be better off for this.”

            “You wouldn’t change it for the world.”

            “I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

            “Because you did it for your family.”

            Mizuki pauses.

            “Because – ” His voice gets caught in his throat. “My – I – I did it for my family.”

            Trip smiles.

            Even the strongest people can be broken.

            Mizuki’s once wild eyes are smaller now, a bit sadder, a bit more confused. That’s not actually the ideal situation: sadness and confusion can give way to self-introspection, it can lead to someone remembering who they were and breaking free. Anger is far more unrelenting, far more suitable for their needs. Trip considers this for a moment.

            “Your family kept leaving you,” he says bluntly. “Remember that. Remember that they keep leaving, one by one, and that’s why you accepted when Morphine approached you. Repeat that.”

            “My family kept leaving,” Mizuki says slowly, the anger creeping back into his voice as he stares at the floor. “They left me, they kept going, one by one, they came to me and said they were quitting, as if they could just quit a family. That’s why I accepted Morphine’s invitation.”

            “Bit off-script, but okay,” Trip shrugs. He turns to go. Then an idea strikes him. He turns back to Mizuki and smiles. Mizuki is still staring at the floor, trying to gather his wits, but when he feels Trip’s eyes on him, he perks up, staring up at him sadly, and then giving way to the anger he felt so strongly before.

            “What the fuck are you looking at?”

            “And also – you’re my boyfriend.”

            Mizuki’s face drops again – not to sadness, or confusion, but to an angry consideration, like he knows he agreed to this, but is having trouble trying to recall when. He shakes his head.

            “Yeah,” he says.

            “Say it.”

            “And I’m your boyfriend.”

            Trip smiles.

            “Nice.” He takes a step forward. “Give me a kiss goodnight.”

            “No,” Mizuki seethes, turning to go into the bathroom and slamming the door behind him. Trip grins wider.

            “Okay. Goodnight,” he says to the bathroom door.

 

* * *

 

            Virus smiles at Trip when he tells him the next morning that Mizuki is now his boyfriend. He doesn’t have to ask what happened. He already knows how Trip finagled that out of the boy, and he obviously is somewhat proud of him.

            “Just make sure he repeats it every day,” he sighs. “Maybe you two will get married.”

            “Then I’d have to move out.”

            “Not necessarily,” Virus says over his coffee mug. “Mizuki doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who cares about following traditions.”

            Trip nods and looks up at the ceiling. This is when he’s supposed to consider his boyfriend’s feelings and personality and make an informed decision about what he might think.

            “I don’t know him well enough to know for sure.”

            “You can just make him repeat it until he believes it,” Virus says, finally taking a sip. “You can make him feel however you want him to feel.”

            Trip smiles. That sounds like the ideal boyfriend.

 

* * *

 

            “Do you want to go on a date with me?”

            “ _Fuck,_ no,” Mizuki laughs.

            Morphine’s plans for Aoba’s grandmother have been put off by a week, and Trip is a little pleased. It gives him more time to be in a relationship with Mizuki, like a real couple.

            “We should do more than just sit on the couch.”

            “Sitting on the couch is fine by me.”

            “Don’t you want to go out?” Trip asks.

            “No,” Mizuki sneers at the TV.

            “I want to take you out.”

            “I don’t care.”

            “I want to have sex.”

            “We can do that.”

            Trip perks up.

            “Really?”

            “Yeah,” Mizuki says, sitting up abruptly and pushing Trip onto his back. “I haven’t jerked off in like, half a day anyway.”

 

* * *

 

            Trip finally manages to get his date three days later. He can’t risk Mizuki being seen by his friends, so he clears the restaurant out beforehand and Mizuki spits at him and sneers that it’s weird the restaurant is empty. He rolls his eyes and picks his nose and puts his feet up on the table and blows Trip in the bathroom.

            He is the best boyfriend Trip could have ever asked for.

 

* * *

 

            Mizuki likes it rough.

            He likes to be tied up and jerked around. He likes to be gagged, blindfolded and collared.

            Trip likes to do those things to him, so he doesn’t mind that Mizuki tries to initiate sex almost three times a day.

            Trip ties his hands above his head and attaches his cuffs to the ceiling, pulling him up on his tiptoes and then stuffs a ballgag in his mouth. He has to buy a crop and a flogger and a whip and Mizuki cries out at every lash, and Trip watches as his dick gets harder, eventually leaking from the tip. He turns him over his knee and scolds him while he spanks him by hand, Mizuki’s wrists bound in front of him, gagged and collared, whining as he rubs his erection against Trip’s thigh. Trip asks Mizuki if he’d like to be collared and leashed sometimes in Trip’s absence, and Mizuki nods aggressively.

            “How did you manage to get him physically restrained?” Virus asks a week into their relationship. “You know we don’t like to do that. It others them too much.” Trip grins at Virus until realization falls upon on him. “Absolutely disgusting,” he mutters.

            “Then why are you getting hard thinking about it?” Trip asks, pointing at the tent in Virus’s slacks.

 

* * *

 

            Mizuki cries at night sometimes. Virus has decided he’s Trip’s responsibility, since he’s his boyfriend and all, so Trip has to go downstairs and cradle him back to sleep. He whines about his family. Trip doesn’t understand what the good in having a family is if you have to complain about it this much.

* * *

 

            The Morphine plan to kidnap Aoba’s grandmother is back on. Just in time, too, because Trip is getting sick of Mizuki’s sex drive – and cry drive. The only thing Mizuki seems to do more than try to suck Trip’s dick is cry. Is this what having a relationship is? Sex and crying? Trip doesn’t even want to have this much sex. Trip doesn’t remember why he wanted this in the first place.

 

* * *

 

            “You’re going to take her,” Virus says, pacing Mizuki’s bedroom. Mizuki isn’t very receptive to a word he’s saying.

            “Why?”

            He’s like a child. A petulant child, repeating, _“Why?” “Why?” “Why?”_ after everything Virus says. Trip wants to say he’d like to break up with him. But he sort of doesn’t. He’s certainly annoying – he’s needy and whiney, but Trip chalks that up to being brainwashed. He’s also aggressive and mean and Trip finds that hilarious. He can be so rude sometimes, and when he insults Virus to his face, Trip can’t help but smile. Virus knows it doesn’t mean anything – sometimes he laughs, too – but Trip finds it particularly endearing.

            He likes Mizuki.

            It sucks Mizuki has to do this.

            Not that Trip feels bad about it or anything. That’s life.

            Virus has a handful of his shirt in his palm, wrenching him forward and pressing their noses together.

            “You are Mizuki,” he says, his rare display of physical dominance exceptionally appealing to Trip. “You are a part of Morphine now. And you do what we tell you.”

            “Fine!” he shouts, grabbing Virus’s wrists and shoving him off. “I don’t give a fuck anyway!”

            He rolls off the other side of the bed and shuts himself in the bathroom again. Virus turns to stare at Trip quizzically.

            “He does that sometimes,” Trip shrugs.

 

* * *

 

            That night, Trip takes Mizuki his dinner and cuddles him in his bed. Mizuki never complains, but he tries to act like he resents it all. He scowls and mutters and curses, but he never says no. He always falls right into Trip’s body Trip has found that he likes to cuddle with a boyfriend. He and Virus cuddle on occasion, but it’s usually on accident, just after they’ve had sex or when neither want to give up their spot on the couch. With Mizuki, it’s different. Mizuki rests his head against Trip’s chest, and Trip actually wonders for once what it would be like to protect Mizuki. He wonders what it would be like to defend his honor. Maybe an ex-sex partner would come up to them in public, tell Trip about how good a lay Mizuki was and call him some pejorative word, hurl invectives at him, and Trip would beat them up. Trip would beat the shit out of them, and then carry Mizuki home bridal-style, drop him gently on the bed, and fuck his brains out.

            “Hey,” Trip says, shaking Mizuki slightly.

            “Fuck,” Mizuki mutters. “What?”

            “Do you like being my boyfriend?”

            “No.”

            “You don’t?”

            “No.”

            “You don’t love me?”

            “Not at all.”

            “Do you want to break up?”

            “No.”

            Mizuki turns to wrap an arm around him and nuzzles into his chest. They fall asleep like that, but only for about an hour, when Trip stirs awake and realizes he has to go to his own bed tonight. Tomorrow is a big day.

            He asks Mizuki if he’d like him to collar and leash him tonight and come by early in the morning to finger him until he comes. Mizuki stares at him, dead-eyed, almost confused. He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t say a fucking word.

            Trip goes to bed.

* * *

 

            “Hm.” Virus pats Trip consolingly on the back and pulls the bed sheets up around them. “I wasn’t entirely expecting that.”

            Mizuki is strong. Mizuki is the strongest person Trip has ever known.

            “I was.”

            “I guess you can consider the relationship over,” Virus says, ignoring Trip’s claim. “At least now you can say you’ve been in one. Just leave out the part where he ended up in a coma in the hospital.”

            “I don’t know,” Trip shrugs. “I think that’s my favorite part.” Virus laughs darkly and Trip shakes his head. “No, no. Because it proves how strong he was.”

            “Trip,” Virus says incredulously. “Are you getting sentimental?”

            Trip thinks for a moment.

            He’s never been sentimental. He doesn’t know how that would feel.

            “I don’t know,” he says. “What does it feel like to be sentimental?”

            “Hm,” Virus hums. “I’m not sure, either. Probably not like how you feel.”

            “Probably not,” Trip says.

            “It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all,” Virus says before laughing to himself. Trip thinks for another moment.

            “What does love feel like?”

            Virus’s laughter is cut short as he makes a noise from the back of his throat and turns over in bed.

            “I’m too tired for philosophy tonight,” he says. “I’m going to sleep.”

            “Do you want to be my boyfriend, Virus?”

            “No.”

            Trip smiles.

            “You sound just like him.”


End file.
